


Glass Wall

by charll



Series: Shooting Stars [1]
Category: Mass Effect
Genre: Freeform, Gen, Mother-Daughter Relationship, One Shot, Ruthless (Mass Effect), Spacer (Mass Effect)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-13
Updated: 2015-12-13
Packaged: 2018-05-06 14:00:32
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 560
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5419712
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/charll/pseuds/charll
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A small look into the mother-daughter relationship of Hannah and Jane Shepard. Specifically looking at their dynamic before and after Shep becomes known as the Butcher of Torfan.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Glass Wall

**Author's Note:**

> I was a little put off by the interactions with shepard's mom if your play spacer. It seems very strained, like something had happened, or that they aren't very close. So my interpretation is that Hannah is sort of disgusted by a ruthless Shep and it kind of poisons their relationship. 
> 
> (I also love playing spacer/ruthless so ???)

They didn't used to sit in silence across from eachother. Some time after her father passed away, Jane had began to change. It happened not long after she'd gotten her N7 commondation. He'd been so proud of her before he died, she remembered that. Jane hadn't been so reckless before that. She'd taken her time, appreciated every moment, on the clock and off. She was their star; shinning, and on her way to some place great.

 

Torfan had changed her for the worse, Hannah would say. She saw some vids, heard some Alliance reports. Hannah was alone in her cabin, stomach tied in knots as she poured over the classified records. The nauseating brutality of it all had her shaking.

 

They didn't talk much after that. And Hannah lamented the loss of the child she'd taken to the Presidium on shore leave to play in the park. Jane grew quiet, introspective- well, more so than usual. But when she spoke with her mother, it was as if there was a clear glass wall sectioning them off, muddling their words and obscuring their faces.

 

If she was being honest, she was afraid. She could see the wet, crimson stain, forever burning her daughter's hands. It hurt to see the faces of thousands of batarians and Alliance soldiers as she caught her gaze. Hannah would anxiously dart her eyes out of sight; discomfort, fear, shame.

 

Jane never felt like the monstrosity her mother's gaze communicated. She'd done what she was trained to do, what was expected, what she thought a Shepard should. Her father had instilled a code of honor in her, but also a strong willed resolve. She once wondered what he'd think had he been alive.

 

Over time, talks between the two had warped into something bitter and poisonous. When the passivity turned to screaming matches and biting swears, the tether had been cut. They were siting in the room again, faces obscured, voices warbled. No more, _'love you, shooting star.'_ No more _'I miss you, mom.'_

 

They'd gone through phases of normality. Hannah would temporarily reconcile with her secret, shameful disgust and reach out for her daughter. But it was a manufactured and plastic dance they'd done time and time again. Hannah's palms would sweat as she activated the comm system, butterflies anxiously flitting around in her stomach; deep breaths and shaking hands.

 

Over the years, it'd seemed people had preferred Jane's more recent exploits. They knew the Hero of the Citadel, not the Butcher of Torfan. When Admiral Hackett arrived in person aboard the Kilamanjaro, she'd merely fixed her gaze on one of the buttons on his uniform, ashamed that no tears welled up to fall down her cheeks. She'd been absolutely terrified of the implication, head growing hot as she tried to force a reaction. Nearly twenty-four hours later she cried so hard. Maybe hoping her baby would hear her cry in the vacuum of space as she burnt up in the atmophere of Alchera.

 

Siting in that silent, intangible room, they let the open wound fester. Jane would be more than a person after it was all said and done, some untouchable ideal. Hannah would remember the young, fiery girl who'd been raised by star system after star system, and the monstous butcher as one in the same; _Something to fear and revere all the same._


End file.
